


Practical Lessons

by nebulia



Category: Mairelon the Magician - Patricia Wrede
Genre: F/M, Fingering, First Time, Plot What Plot, just a little bit awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 12:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulia/pseuds/nebulia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim likes kissing Mairelon quite a bit; it follows that she'd like other things, too. Fortunately Mairelon is willing to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practical Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> PWP, no seriously.

 

The wedding was exhausting and after the footman helped her into the carriage, Kim slumped in the seat and pulled off her gloves. Mairelon came in behind her and plopped down next to her. "Well, that's finished with."

 

"It couldn’t have come soon enough," Kim said. "I hate weddings. You'd better outlive me, 'cause I ain't never doing that again."

 

Mairelon chuckled and leaned over to kiss her on the temple. "I'll try." He moved over, pressing the outsides of their thighs together, and directed her head to his shoulder. Kim accepted it, relaxing with a sigh, and smiled when she felt the weight of Mairelon's chin on the crown of her head.

 

After a moment, he snorted and pulled away, and then there were fingers in her hair, pulling at her hat pins. "What are you doing?"

 

"Your veil is itching," he said. "And the feather of your bonnet is in my face." 

 

"Oh." Kim reached up and pulled the pins out, removing the bonnet and offending veil, throwing it on the seat across from them. "Is that better?"

 

"Much." They resumed their previous position, sitting in companionable silence for several minutes. After a while, Kim felt Mairelon relax further against her, his breathing deepening. She smiled. The wedding had been trying for him, too, especially since he hadn't had Renée and Lady Wendall to talk him through it, and do all of the hard work. Of course, he had less work to do. Kim doubted that it'd taken him almost two hours to get all bronzed up like it did her. She still didn't understand why she'd had to get a whole new dress, though most of the two hours had been dealing with her hair.

 

Come to think of it, she was sleepy too.

 

She dozed in and out for a while, pleasantly, but woke when the carriage jolted and Mairelon jerked awake.

 

"Where are my manners?" he said. "I fell asleep on you!"

 

"I didn't mind," Kim told him. "How much farther?"

 

Mairelon leaned over, glancing out the window. "I'd say we're two hours or a little more outside London," he said. "We still have a ways to go."

 

"Oh," Kim said, disappointed.

 

"Buck up," Mairelon told her. "I'm sure we can find something to natter on about for three or four hours, can't we?" He took her hand, twining his fingers with hers. "We haven't had the chance to natter for quite some time."

 

They really hadn't. The debacle with Mannering had started only days after they returned to London from Kent, and then after that they'd hardly had a second alone, even in lessons. Apparently renouncing Kim as his ward (or whatever he'd had to do to be able to marry her) meant they now had to be chaperoned same as anyone. And Mrs. Lowe hadn't even allowed Hunch to do it, or Wilson. She or Lady Wendall had sat in on all of their lessons, and both Mairelon and Kim had been so busy they'd hardly had time to meet for those.

 

When they had managed a few moments alone, usually it was late at night in the library, or, even more frequently, the hallway by Kim's room in the townhouse, and, to be perfectly honest, they'd spent most of those kissing.

 

So they hadn't really had a chance to just talk about things, any things, since they'd been in Kent.

 

"Is London always like that?" Kim asked. "Your London, I mean."

 

"No chances to natter?" Mairelon asked. "Yes, it seems that way, doesn't it? I daresay with Shoreham's work we'll have less time still."

 

"But we don't have to do another Season, do we?"

 

"We'll probably have to at some point in our lives," Mairelon said. "However, I think we may be able to escape next year's."

 

"That's good," Kim said. "I _hated_ it."

 

Mairelon chuckled. "Yes, dear, you've made that very clear."

 

"And another thing," Kim said. "Are you going to call me that all the time?"

 

"Dear?" Mairelon asked. "I hadn't thought about it. It's just what my father always called my mother." He frowned. "Another thing? I believe I've called you that once, and it was just moments ago."

 

Kim pursed her lips. "I'm not sure I like it."

 

"Then I don't have to call you it," Mairelon said, his eyes sparkling. "Dear."

 

Kim raised her eyebrows, exasperated, but Mairelon just leaned down and kissed her, slowly and very softly, lingering for long, perfect moments.

 

She nearly grabbed him and laid one on him when he pulled away, but instead she leaned against his shoulder again. "I got a question."

 

"Have a question. Yes?"

 

Kim rolled her eyes. "You ever done…it?"

 

"It?" She couldn't see his face but she had to guess his eyebrows were hovering around his hairline.

 

"Well, I could be indecent about it if you liked," she said, and he started.

 

"Oh! Well," he paused, "Yes."

 

Kim sat up. "Really? You have?"

 

"I did go to university, you know," he reminded her. He was blushing, Kim noted with great satisfaction. "And then I had a couple of—well, you might call them bits o'muslin—as contacts in France. It was quite the education." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why? Have you?"

 

"Boy, remember?" Kim said. "I was trying to avoid that."

 

"I thought so. But again, why do you ask?  You are…familiar with—" Mairelon was clearly struggling to stay polite.

 

"The mechanics? Yeah, I know how it goes." She frowned. "Well, I was just wondering. It seems mighty unpleasant if you ask me. I've heard lots of stories, and none of them sounded very good."

 

"It can be quite nice," Mairelon said. "I've noticed it tends to be better with people you're fond of." He took Kim's hand again. "I've never—well—with someone I've been in love with, though."

 

Of course Kim _knew_ that Mairelon was rather desperately in love with her, though he hadn't quite come out and said it till just then. She kissed him on the cheek, and then frowned. "The girls in the stews never talked about it nice."

 

"Nicely," Mairelon said. "And I should imagine not. The women I worked with in France were relatively well-off—courtesans, you might say. They serviced very wealthy clients, which was why they frequently had information, and lived in relative luxury."

 

"The girls don't live in luxury," Kim said.

 

"Well, no, but then, most of their clients are either trying to keep their indescretions very, very quiet or, more often, they can't afford someone more expensive." He frowned. "Some men tend to be…rough. The girls at Vauxhall or on Drury Lane would be considered little more than a—" he cut himself off. "Oh, that wasn't decent at all."

 

Kim had an idea of where he was going; she'd heard the phrase before. "A hole to f—" she began and Mairelon kissed her quickly before she could finish the last word. "What?" she said, when he pulled away.

 

He laughed. "I think," he said suddenly, "That you are the most perfect girl in the entire world."

 

"You say that like you're just realizing it," Kim teased, and he kissed her again, on the mouth, and then the nose. She wrinkled it and he pulled away. "So…what's it like, then?"

 

"I've heard that the first time can be unpleasant for women," he said. "But it's very…intimate."

 

"That was expressive," Kim said. "You always got to be so cryptic." She glanced at him and smiled.  "Maybe a practical lesson would be better." Mairelon looked at her sharply. "What? I've always done better with the practicals than with musty old books and lectures." She looked up at Mairelon through her lashes. "It's not like anyone would see."

 

"I'm afraid we might have to worry a bit about our dignity."

 

"Dignity's overrated," Kim said, and, hiking up her skirts, swing one leg over Mairelon's hips, straddling him. Settling back onto his thighs, she draped her hands over his shoulders, playing with a stray lock of hair. "Something like this, right?" she asked, and leaned in and kissed him.

 

They kissed for a while, long, slow lingering kisses that fizzled in Kim's belly. Then Mairelon pulled away. "It's a little bit different than that," he said, smoothing his hands up and down her sides. They lingered on her hips, and then tightened, drawing her in closer to him, their fronts pressed together, and he kissed her again, moving a hand to cup her face and tilt her chin up, just slightly, and slid his tongue into her mouth.

 

 _Oh._ That was different, and unexpected, and _more_ , and Kim pressed herself closer. There had been hints of tongue before, and one delightful evening in the library when Mairelon had done something absolutely fantastic with his teeth, but it hadn't been like this. Kim opened her mouth a little more, and attempted to kiss him back.

 

She was, after all, a fast learner, and when she touched her tongue to his teeth his hand tightened on his hip and he made a noise into her mouth that made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She was making Mairelon feel this way!

 

He pulled away a few moments later, just enough to breathe, gasping into her mouth. His breath was warm and wet and she pressed their foreheads together. Her hands, she realized, were tangled in his hair, and the hand on her hip was underneath her skirts, thumb stroking her hipbone through the fabric of her pantaloons.

 

"You're not jealous?" he said into her mouth.

 

"Of what?" Kim asked.

 

"The other women. Before."

 

"You said you wasn't in love with any of them, so why's it matter?" Kim said. "Just as long as you don't go around with any of 'em now."

 

"Weren't. And you're quite right, of course."

 

"I usually am," Kim said, and kissed him again. She wanted to try that thing Mairelon had done in the library, with the teeth. It made him groan and run his fingers down the back of her neck and then her spine, touching each spot where the bones stuck out, until he moved his hand around her ribcage and ran his fingers over the curve of her breast.

 

"Um," Kim said into his mouth, and pulled back. "Is that—" he cupped his palm, rubbing his thumb over a spot on the underside of her breast. Through the fabric of her corset and dress she couldn't feel the specifics of the motion, but suddenly her whole body was sensitive and over-stimulated. Mairelon kissed her neck, lips almost burning against her skin, and she said, "I always sort of thought—"

 

"I tried so hard to not notice," Mairelon said into the place where shoulder met neck. "That you were—filling out. You were always pretty, of course." Kim doubted that, but Mairelon was probably queer enough in the attic to think so. "But eventually it was impossible, so I just started pretending you hadn't changed at all." His thumb found the tiny bump of her nipple, almost indistinguishable through her clothes, and brushed against it. Kim gasped and arched. "God, I was so mad for you." He kissed her collarbone.

 

"Since when?" Kim asked, and smiled. "You should tell me more about how in love you were."

 

He looked up at her. "I absolutely should not," he said. "I would like to retain the last vestiges of my dignity."

 

Lead by example, Lady Wendall had told her, and Kim knew she gave decent advice sometimes. "I figured it out that night you got foxed in the library. You asked me if I liked any of my suitors, and I said, 'There isn't anyone' and it nearly popped out of my mouth. 'There isn't anyone except you,' I almost said. Just managed to shut my mouth in time. It was like part of my brain was just catching up with the rest of it." She kissed him fondly. "And then I moped all night 'cause I thought if you didn't have any interest in that chit Letitia Tarnower and you weren't in love with Renée, who's the most beautiful woman in the entire world, why would you be in love with me?"

 

"I've been in love with you since you followed me when I was supposed to go meet with Renée," Mairelon said. "You tumbled out of those bushes, covered in mud and you were so concerned, and I was just a little bit irritated you hadn't listened, and you said something like, 'You told me to stay behind, but I never said I would.'" His mouth found the hollow of her throat, like he could only go a few moments between kisses. "I'd known you for less than two weeks, and you looked all of thirteen, and it just hit me. That I—loved you."

 

"You thought I was _thirteen_?" Kim said.

 

"I thought you were probably fifteen, which is bad enough." He looked distressed at the memory, as if he suddenly realized Kim could have been lying about her age this whole time.

 

"You are ridiculous," Kim told him. "Come here and kiss me."

 

He did, and they kissed until Kim's lips were swollen and sore and Mairelon's were red from being bitten and she wanted nothing more than for her lips to be more swollen, more sore, more _more more,_ Mairelon _please_ , and she could feel Mairelon hard against the inside of her thigh, constricted by his pants, and to be honest she was more curious than anything else—

 

And then Mairelon's hand, the one that had been on her hip, darted into the slit in her pantaloons and touched the folds between her legs.

 

His fingers were so soft, so gentle, and he just touched the edges, brushing his fingers there, and she pulled away from the sweetness of his mouth to look at him.

 

He was watching her face, her eyes. "Is this all right?" he asked.

 

The skin there was more sensitive than the rest of her, even, and she rocked into his hand, experimenting. "I think so," she said, and Mairelon kissed her earlobe, her jaw.

 

"I'll go slowly," he said. "Tell me if it's not."

 

Right now, everything was all right. Mairelon kissed her mouth again, and oh, he was everywhere, and his fingers were searching, finding spots between her legs that made her gasp and squeak.

 

She knew the mechanics, of course, but he didn't seem to be interested in the mechanics. Instead, he was interested in the places that made her make noise, and the places that made her flinch away. And, like he always was with her, he was unfailingly patient, and surprisingly, painfully gentle.

 

"I didn't know you could be so considerate," she said, breathing hard.

 

"Consideration is an important aspect of married life," he said, and she smiled and rocked into his hand again. Again, and again, and again—and then his fingers tugged at something that made her _whimper_ , the sensation so intense that for a moment it was good and bad at the same time, almost too much.

 

"Should I stop?" Mairelon asked. His breath was coming more quickly, too, and he was looking at her like she was the most wondrous thing.

 

"If you do, I'll kill you," she said. He kissed her, nibbled at her lip, moved his fingers away from the spot that had made her moan, and then back.

 

"Oh, _blast,"_ Kim breathed. She thought she might die, it was so good. And it was building to something, moving forward in surges with the motion of her hips, rocking back and forth, and oh, she was definitely going to die—

 

"Let go," Mairelon said into her ear. "I've got you." He kissed her panting mouth, his free hand helping her hips to move, and for a moment she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but press her forehead to Mairelon's, ground herself in his arms. Too much sensation, everywhere, his fingers still moving between her legs, her hips still moving, but it was too much, every nerve in her body standing on end. Then she sagged, gasping, and he stroked down her spine with soft fingers, his other hand moving to rest on her thigh, damp.

 

"What was that?" she asked, still pressing their foreheads together. Her hands were clenched so tightly into his hair her knuckles were white, but it didn't seem to be bothering him.

 

"I believe the French call it _le petit mort_ —the little death."

 

"I thought I was going to die," Kim said. "I ain't never—well."

 

Mairelon laughed. "It's generally like that, yes."

 

"Every time?" Kim asked. Oh Lord, she might die for real.

 

Mairelon's mouth twisted in thought. "Not _every_ time, I'd imagine, though I suppose it doesn't happen ever in some marriages. Not for the lady, at least."

 

"That doesn't seem fair."

 

"It's not."

 

"And hey," Kim sat up, still straddling Mairelon's lap. "How come I ain't never heard of it? I heard lots of stories from the girls at the stews."

 

"I'd assume most men at the stews were not chivalrous enough to return the favor."

 

That...was actually not surprising at all. "Fair enough," she said.

 

"And," Mairelon added, with a tone of great importance, "Just because we're married does not mean you can return to your thieves' cant."

 

"I thought you'd killed me!" Kim said. "So sorry I'm not thinking properly."

 

"I guess I can let it slide this once," Mairelon said, with a long-suffering sigh. "Also, I believe my legs are about to fall asleep."

 

"Oh!" Kim tried to swing her leg off, but it was strangely wobbly, and the carriage jolted her into Mairelon's chest. Mairelon helped her instead, settling her on the seat next to him. "So, what's next?"

 

Mairelon blinked. "What do you mean, what's next?"

 

"In my lesson." Kim grinned. "I heard stories about what I could do to you, but I don't think I'd like to use my mouth just yet, it sounds unpleasant."

 

Mairelon opened his mouth, and then shut it again, cheeks flaring suddenly and brilliantly red. She'd never seen him blush like that. "Well. Um."

 

"Ain't you just the smoothest one," Kim said, still grinning.

 

"Hush, you," Mairelon said. "I—well, I haven't thought much about it. Or, rather, I tried to not think about it that much."

 

"Hmm," Kim said, and since Mairelon was still red, and stammering a little, decided to take matters into her own hands, pushing his jacket aside and leaning over to unbutton the front of his trousers.

 

Mairelon grabbed her hands, holding them in his own. One was still sticky. "Kim, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

 

"I want to do everything," Kim said, and was surprised to find it was true. "Even the thing with my mouth. Just not yet."

 

"Oh," Mairelon said in a very small voice. "I'm not sure what constitutes 'everything.'"

 

"Well, between you and me, I'm sure we'll figure it out." She pulled her hands out of his and went back to work, kissing him as she did. "I heard all sorts of stories, and I'm sure that some of them might be fun with you."

 

"You're going to be just as insatiable about this as you are about everything else, aren't you?" Mairelon asked, and arched as Kim took him in hand.

 

"I learned from the best," Kim said, and smiled at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Regency women had started to wear pantaloons in the early 1800s, they had a pretty significant slit in the crotch so they didn't have to be removed to satisfy the call of nature, but they were quite baggy for modesty. Also, women sometimes had new dresses made for their wedding, but they were nothing special and were usually worn again. Basically, their Sunday best. 
> 
> I feel like Mairelon would have, at some point, have had sex in his life. Regency double standards were pretty notorious, though of course they got worse in the Victorian Era. OTOH, I feel like while Kim would know about sex, she would have heard very few (if any) positive stories about it. Given how desperately she tries to avoid being forced into prostitution, I would imagine she isn't all that aware that sex is anything other than how babies are made and a tool to hurt people, especially girls.
> 
> Since this was a PWP and I spent a lot of time researching how Kim and Mairelon might access their bits in a carriage I only briefly looked at slang for the period, and couldn't find a lot of low-class or dirty slang in regards to sexual acts. So Kim is a little more decent than she might have been otherwise. I also couldn't find a lot in regards to what marital sex might have been like, so while it wasn't explicitly mentioned, I basically took the traditional "lie back and think of England" assumption. 
> 
> But Mairelon is way too much of a gentleman to not feel bad that she wasn't enjoying herself, and Kim wouldn't stand for that kind of behavior anyway. 
> 
> Also, whatever road they're on is a very nice, smooth road.


End file.
